Jervis Tetch Diaries
by NnoitraLover5
Summary: Here you read the diary of Jervis Tetch and how he became the man he is today, full of tragedy , heartbreak and realisation along with small hints of happiness and love you see what shaped this blonde Englishman into the recognisable Mad Hatter of Gotham City. May contain a bit of swearing and mature content
1. Diary Entry 1

**Hello all!, it's been a long time since I wrote something on fanfiction, a very long time indeed. To answer the big question yes I will be continuing with Assesment Tetch 10/6 at some point I have just been very busy lately and haven't really found time to squeeze it in, but never the less I decided to write something different for the time being. This piece of work is based on a diary written by Jervis Tetch and you all have the privilege of reading it, if you like what you see so far then please let me know and I will post the next entry when I can, once again thank you for your support, I do not own Batman as that belongs to DC but there are a couple of OC's. This is not canon either!**

The summer of somewhere in the 1980's, thats when it happened...that was the day when I was born in the heat of the Indian sun. My parents were not Indian but British/ American. My mother, born and raised in the old money roots of London while my father was new money. From that oh so delightful city of Gotham which was soon to be my home...and my prison. My parents were in India for specific purposes, they were both scientists of the highest order. recommended and noticed by their genius and intellect when it comes to technology and physics along with key elements of biology and chemistry. But their intellect could not compare to how loving and kind hearted they were when I was in their company. Oh how gentle and sweet they were to me, loving me 24/7 making me warm and happy and it wasn't the sun making me warm most of the time . Ah yes, I had such a cherished life in India, seven birthdays and seven wonderful Christmases with my parents in our little home and I distinctly remember the giant bonsai tree on the side of our garden where the tropical birds sang and the lizards performed their mating call.

My fondest memories of my childhood was sitting in that tree reading the book which would later leave a mark on me for all eternity in a good form and in a bad form...and that book...was Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. My mother gave it to me as a gift for my sixth birthday and the memories I had with that book I shall never forget. I felt like I was owning the keys for my imagination to be set free into the world which was full of darkness and despair from the grime and sort of criminals, gangsters and the corrupted people in society...just thinking about it makes me laugh at the irony of it all. But back to the point, seven years of wonderful memories...and now your probably wondering, Jervis, why did you only spend seven years with these happy memories and ever so loving parents...well my dear sweet reader of my diary I shall tell you. It's because on the winter when I was seven years old...my parents fucking burnt.

Yes you heard me right my parents were burnt to their deaths...and the memory still scars me after twenty years and it was the day that would haunt my dreams...forever. It all started on that very day in winter when I was about to go to bed. But before I did I went to to wish my parents good night. So I went down to my parents lab, which was filled with the most adorable little animals which were used for humane experiments and we make sure that they are properly taken care of and not given any toxic chemicals. Like my dear father used to say...'I would never dare hurt an animal, not even a fly, as it is simply cruel I tell you, for you see Jervis my boy, animals are part of our education, without them we would never of gotten mythical creatures like the unicorn or the mermaid', my father always was a wise man. Anyway they were about to shut down the lab before I came in extremely tired and hugging my prized bunny toy which I have had since the day I was born and I still keep it to this very day. My father, Charles Alister Tetch was not only smart but a gentle soul and showed only but kindness to his family and friends along with my dear sweet mother Louise Tetch...they were completely innocent people I tell you...innocent. That night they gently hugged me and gave me sweet kisses upon my face with tender loving care and passionate affection that every parent should have for their child especially at a young age.

I adored my life that I was given and I could not be more grateful that God had given me to such smart kind hearted parents...they would be ashamed of me now if they saw me today and what I had become. After hugs and kisses they tucked me into bed and wished me good night as well and blessed me with sweet dreams of Wonderland. However me being a cheeky and mischievous lad I decided to sneak out of bed and climb onto the bonsai tree to read chapter 7 of Alice in Wonderland. That infamous scene with The Mad Hatter's tea party...that scene would doom me for the rest of my wretched life...but nothing could compare to what was about to happen next. When reading my prized book I thought I heard a noise like glass hitting the ground, I got off the tree to check for the noise incase one of the lab animals was injured or had gotten out of its cage and started knocking over test tubes...if only it had been test tubes knocking over.

But when I entered my little home from the cold winter's night ,...it was about to become hellishly hot as the entire lab...had been set on fire with a nightmare of a blaze but what shocked me even more was what I saw on the ground. There...lying on the cold chemically stained floor...was my mother and father...with a bullet in their heads. As a child it was the most horrifying sight, the sort of sight which shall mentally scar for all eternity..like it did for young Bruce Wayne who has been hiding ever in his mansion in Gotham City. But there they were...dead, not moving...gone..and I was not with them...I ran out the room just before the massive explosion occurred...and I laid there on the grass and snow...a little boy watching his happiness crumble down before him...They took me back to Gotham in an open eyed coma like state with emptiness and darkness within my once crystal blue eyes...I had nobody left...except for one.

The family lawyer Carlos Radcliffe was my only hope at this point as the court were tempted to send me to Arkham Asylum believing I was the culprit but luckily my lawyer defended my case while I was traumatised and I was to be put into the care of St Petersworth's boarding school for boys where I was to be educated to be the most sophisticated young gentleman in Gotham and to rival that of Bruce Wayne and Oswald Cobblepot at the same time...Three of the most wealthiest families now in the same city, three heirs of their fortune and I had no idea what to do with my newly earned fortunes at the time so I kept it safe in my account and made sure no one will ever touch it as it was safe and sound within the family bank, no greedy swine would remove it from my fundings. But money didn't matter...my parents were gone and I felt so alone during the rest of my years within the walls of St Petersworth's...I will explain my time in there in a moment my dear friends do not worry about that. But I felt miserable on this world, I had no friends my age that I could turn to for support as I was a freak to them, a weirdo, a lunatic of society to all of them...mad as a fucking hatter to everyone in Gotham.


	2. Diary Entry 2

**Hello all!, I just wanted to say thank you so far for liking the new story and I wanted to say that there maybe some chapters with a bit of mature content so please do be wary of this and if you are not comfortable with it then please avoid these chapters, I will make sure to warn you for any details which maybe mature, never the less please enjoy the next chapter of The Jervis Tetch Diaries :) I do not OWN DC, I do own the OC's.**

Boarding school...what could I say about boarding school in Gotham...well I guess I could put it into a few words...It was a bloody nightmare for me. The boys that I was put in a dormitory with were probably the worst examples of people I have ever met...

They did not care about education or the lessons oh no all they bloody cared about was how much beer and vodka they drank and how many women they fucked in their beds...it was the closest thing to maths and science they ever got...counting how much they drank and the science of getting an erection when looking at a pair of boobs.

But that was in my ruined teenage years, constant dorm parties and I was forced to join them but I never drank their alcohol or absorbed their drugs or slept with anyone...I just sat there..disgusted in society. During my younger years around 7 to 10 years old it was equally worse. The students didn't have a clue about anything they just sat at their desks picking their nose and passing on silly love notes to the prettiest female members of staff in my English class...they always rejected them, at least the girls had more common sense.

I spent most of my days in boarding school alone mainly because the others students didn't want to associate themselves with me because of my appearance. They seem intimidated by my overbite thinking I was some weird rabbit hybrid of a man.

Apparently from Radcliffe I Look more like my father face wise but my hair colour and skin colour along with my eyes resembled that of my mother, he always said I Always had my mothers innocent celestial blue eyes and golden blonde hair...some innocence must of left me now...

But school was tolerable, the material moved on a little slowly for my tastes, but it was a place of learning, so I suppose I enjoyed it well enough. I was very grateful that my teacher that I had in most of my classes was a very sophisticated man by the name of Mr T Kingly, a foreign gentleman with a passion for etiquette and classic sophistication and it's was he who would privately tutor me on my manners and how to be the most sophisticated man in Gotham.


	3. Diary Entry 3

**Hi guys it's been an extremely long time but today on Christmas Day I present to you the third chapter of the Jervis Tetch Diaries, please enjoy and have a very merry Christmas. I do not own DC but I do own any OC's mentioned.**

Jervis Tetch Diary 3

Mr Kingly

Throughout my younger years until I was thirteen Mr Kingly gave me private lessons when the rest of the maniacs in my class went out to do immature stuff that wasn't worth my time. My respectable teacher told me back then that I had potential in this world and that I could be a better example of Gotham and show them that I was not to be contaminated by the lunatics of society...to bad that never happened. But never the less he taught me how to to be a proper gentleman like what my father was going to do before he was robbed from me and those who loved him along with my mother.

My lessons were labelled How to walk like a gentleman, how to talk like a gentleman, how to dress like a gentleman, how to eat like a gentleman and you get the bloody picture. Mr Kingly made sure that I memorised everything in precise detail such as which tone of laughter is acceptable within a conversation and to make sure that the right cutlery was used when eating a salad or a slice of tender beef. I even made a clever reference during my eating classes by using the salad fork to brush my hair like a certain red headed mermaid who was taught by a seagull that it was used to comb your hair, Kingly could not help but laugh at my childlike remark and told me he has never seen anyone do that before in real life and that it amused him.

Ah yes I had some rather frabjous times with my teacher but your probably wondering...why did I only have my kind hearted teacher for only 6 years and not until the end...well...like almost everyone else around me...he died...of lung cancer.

A genetic disorder in the lungs he said on his death bed in the hospital. I was the only one to see him in the hospital that day he passed and I was the only person to attend his funeral...no students, no teachers and he didn't have any family at all and there was no other flowers on his grave except mine...I was the only friend he had in his life...now that I look at it now at the age of twenty seven, I think he must of saw something in me that he saw in himself and he understood how it felt to be different.

There was one time he asked me if him being black disturbed me...I was seven at the time and at a young age by my father I was taught about racism and how people with a different skin colour or ethnic background were judged by some members of the community...and he always told me to never judge a man by his skin colour or their ethnicity or their sexuality or anything that defines a person as we are all human beings and live on the same planet.

So in my response to Mr Kingly's question...I shook my head and said ' My daddy always told me to never judge a man or a woman or a child by their race or life choices ' and I could help but notice that there was tear running down his face as he smiled like he was thanking God that I even existed. Then he told me that he was the only black child in his school and the only black teacher in St Petersworth's and the amount of racist comments he received from students and teachers alike was outrageous...he deserved all the respect in the world that man.

But for the rest of my teens until I was eighteen my life in St Petersworth's was a nightmare that I wanted to escape from. Filled with alcohol drugs and women who were staff members and young ladies from the all girls school not far from there.

Your probably wondering if I had an lady friends during those times... no, not really. I never found girls that snook inside appealing in the way that my fellows did… nor did I find my fellows interesting in the same fashion. I simply didn't see any attraction in attraction. As far as I was concerned, romantic infatuation was a vulgar, childish past time designed to hurt any players foolish enough to partake in it and the players were mostly my fellow school mates that were seduced by the charms of women out of the school.

Besides, I had already fallen in love with an idea; an idea that curiosity could be brave, that dreams and poems presided over reality, and that the world didn't have to make sense for it to be true and right.

Little did I know that idea was real, and had a name...a very lovely name.


End file.
